Broken Mirror
by The Periodic Table of Converse
Summary: Tony knows he has inner demons. He just never expected them to be so… personified. (A short and angsty drabble in the mind of Tony Stark). For real this time guys. The major error has been resolved. One-shot.


**Broken Mirror**

**Tony knows he has inner demons. He just never expected them to be so… personified. (A short and angsty drabble in the mind of Tony Stark)**

**A/N: This plot popped into my head for unknown reasons, so I had to write it down. Very short and very bothersome. I think it will be a one-shot, but maybe I could do the other team members. Either way, I hope you like it. Please, leave a review with your thoughts and any suggestions.**

**OOO**

"**But when alcohol comes in, start running. Because there's a demon there, and it goes back to her childhood." -****David Gest**

**OOO**

"Lemme get this straight. You're telling me that you can show up in _my_ tower in the middle of the night and expect to get away with it? Listen buddy, I'm _Iron Man_. You should run while you still can." Tony glares angrily at the blue-ish figure standing near the windows in his lounge, a half-full bottle of scotch abandoned on the counter of his bar. His Arc reactor illuminates a small circle around him. Unfortunately, Tony can't tell who the hell managed to get past Jarvis.

"Of course I can be up here. I have full access to the tower, wouldn't you know?" The figure replies. A mysterious blue glow coming from the man across the room lights up a dim smirk on his face. Tony cranes his neck, but the origin of the glow is a mystery to him.

"Yeah? And just who the hell might _you_ be?" He snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. The figure mocks him by replicating the action. The room grows darker; the blue lights fade significantly when their arms conceal their chests.

"You might call me a colleague. A… friend." The man smirks again, and this time Tony can feel his own lips curling upwards in a sadistic sneer. He doesn't mean to though. Invisible strings tug his mouth up.

"Yeah? I'm afraid that I have many friends, and I don't remember adding you to the list. Give me your name and number and I'll get back to you never." Tony's snark is fully intact and he means to use it. The figure across the room remains unaffected. His gaze doesn't break from Tony's own.

"Oh, believe me. I'm probably at the top of the list. Even above _Pepper_." He drawls, and Tony's glare intensifies. Nobody insults his loyalty to Pepper. The man grins again. He knows he's hit a nerve.

"Who are you?" Tony growls, one hand reaching out to grip the gauntlet on his left wrist. Fifteen yards in front of him, the figure mimics Tony. They grin evilly at each other, looking foolish while one hand holds their other wrist in a vice-like grip. Tony's eyebrows draw together in a poisonous glare.

"Well…" He replies with just as much venom lacing his voice. "Who do you think? I thought they call you a genius." Tony growls deep in his throat and the man does the same. They sound exactly the same when they do that. Even their voices seem to have been copied. Then it hits Tony like taking Thor's hammer to the face. _They sound exactly the same._

"You're me." He states. The Evil Tony grins and steps forward. The other Tony- the original- hits a button on his bracelet and waits anxiously for the armor to appear. No large metal suits smash through the walls or the floor and he tries to ignore how rigid his stance is. "I thought you'd be taller." He jokes sarcastically. "And better-looking."

"Yes. I am the parts of you that you try to ignore. I am literally your worst nightmare." He says, and releases the grip on his wrist. Unwillingly, the original Tony Stark does the same. "You're too weak for this world. You have feelings. They hold you back. You are _wasting_ the potential that runs through your veins. I decided that I should not waste it as well." (The fact that his lame attempt at humor is ignored does not go unnoticed by Tony.)

Tony's demon charges at him like a bull. He wears Tony's suit, the Arc reactor's color changing from a comforting blue to a sickly green, before settling on a poisonous purple shade. The device is beautiful, albeit deadly. The hypnotizing color ensnares his attention. He can't help but wonder what he could accomplish without his sense of humanity. Then, the suit of armor charging at him breaks him free of the spell.

Tony stands frozen as the man lumbers towards him. When the suit is inches from his face, the image and Tony's vision crack and shatter. Then, his eyesight refocuses and a migraine slams against his throbbing temples.

Tony is left standing alone, staring at an empty wooden frame at three in the morning. Littered at his feet are jagged shards of a broken mirror. His drink waits patiently on the counter top.

His sanity splinters and his demons are let free.

_**Fin.**_

**EDIT_12.16.13, 6:35 p.m.**

**Okay. So I'm posting this **_**again**_** on this account. Why, you ask. Because I – the master of clumsy and awkward – performed a royal screw up and accidentally plastered my name (first and last) on my Fever 1793 story. And then when I noticed, had a panic attack, and went to change the chapter, I accidentally replaced this story with the edited document.**

**So if you clicked on this story before, and were disgusted with what you read, I was not playing a cruel joke on you. My apologies.**


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